


One-Shot: Harry Potter's Arrival at the Burrow

by MollyMonster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4634685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyMonster/pseuds/MollyMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Weasley's perspective on Harry Potter's arrival at her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One-Shot: Harry Potter's Arrival at the Burrow

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it was amazing of Molly and Arthur how some kid just turns up at their house and they take him in, no questions asked. Especially with how little they had; there had to be money issues as a result of the extra person. But they never complained once.

When Molly Weasley heard the sounds of the family car outside, relief flooded through her heart. There was no mistaking the sound; she knew the revving of the old engine, the kla-clunk as it landed roughly on the ground. Her boys were home safe.

She breathed a sigh of relief and sank down onto one of the twin’s beds. For a minute she took the time to slow her breathing, to wash away all the panicked filled _what if’s_ that had plagued her mind in the minutes since she had woken and found Fred, George, and Ron missing.

Then, having collected her wits about her, Molly Weasley rose and positively stomped down the stairs. Now that she knew they were all alive, she was going to _kill them._

The three of them were pattering around the living room when she got to them. They were excited about something; what, Molly didn’t know and didn’t really care about. She took a firm, menacing stance; feet planted, hands on hips, eyes narrowed dangerously. 

”Where have you been?”

Molly’s furious bellow caused all three of her sons to spin around immediately. The excitement on their faces was quickly replaced by fear, and the twins moved closer together, as if that would help at all.

“Beds empty!” Molly continued. “No note! Car gone! You could have died! You could have been seen!”

To her surprise it was Ron, not one of the twins who spoke first.

“I’m sorry Mum,” he muttered. “But we had to get Harry out. They had him locked up!”

That brought Molly up short. She blinked rapidly, every single word that had been on the tip of her tongue suddenly freezing. They seemed to coagulate there, in the back of her throat, fury turning to shock and concern.

_Harry who? What?_

Molly’s confusion over who Harry was faded as the boy in question appeared, emerging from the kitchen. Black hair was mussed up, green eyes staring at her in wide eyed fear. He looked so much like his father back in the days of the Order that for a moment the name James rang in Molly’s mind.

But his eyes were the wrong color. Those were Lily’s eyes. And a moment later Molly recognized the boy who lived.

“Right,” she said at last. “Harry. Harry Potter.”

She saw Harry wince, no doubt thinking he was about to have another fan embrace him and fawn over him for an incident he didn’t even remember. He glanced uncertainly to Ron, looking for advice, and Molly rushed to soothe his nerves.

“Of course,” she expanded. “Ron talks about you all the time. His best mate.” Molly took a deep breath, forcing herself to expel her anger; it wouldn’t do to start ranting at her sons just then. “Welcome to the Burrow, Harry.”

Whether it was her lack of comment on his past or the motherly tone Molly had taken care to adopt, Harry now looked slightly more relaxed. He even offered Molly a small smile and edged further into the living room.

“Thank you ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry to barge in like this-”

Molly cut him off, waving a hand. “Oh, don’t you worry about it. I’ve been wanting to meet Ron’s friends. Why don’t you have a seat dear, I’ll whip up something for us all to eat. Fred, go and wake the others. George, help me in the kitchen.”

Wordlessly the twins rushed to do as she said, knowing now wasn’t the time to whine or complain. Ron grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him out the back door to show him the garden, casting a nervous glance back at his mother as he went. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near out of the fire.

Molly waited until Ron and Harry had left before dragging George into the kitchen. Then she cast a few quick spells; some to get breakfast started, another to keep anyone else from hearing their conversation.

“Explain,” she ordered.

George did so, quickly telling Molly everything he knew. 

Ron had been exchanging letters back and forth with Harry all summer, which Molly had known already. She also already knew that about a week or so ago the letters had seemingly stopped. Ron had been miserable, constantly pestering the family owl, waiting for another message. 

What she didn’t know was what Ron had confided in his older brothers. That he suspected Harry’s silence was more than just him being busy. Something must have been wrong. 

Fred and George had cautioned him to wait, but at last the three had snuck out in the night to find out for themselves why Harry Potter had seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.

When Molly learned of what his aunt and uncle had done to him; locking him in his room, barring his window, she was absolutely appalled.

“That poor boy!” she exclaimed. Her grip on her wand tightened, causing several sparks to flare out. “How could they?”

George shook his head, his normally mischievous grin replaced by the most serious expression Molly had ever seen on her son. 

“I dunno, Mum.” 

Molly shook her head. “And what I don’t understand is why you three didn’t come to me or your father. We could have helped. We could have gone to the Ministry. We could have gotten Harry out of there in a way that didn’t risk your lives!”

George shrugged. “Ron didn’t want to tell anyone. Fred and I reckoned he was just overreacting. We thought we’d slip out, have a quick chat with Harry, then slip back in and no one would ever know we were gone.” He held up his hands as his mother shot him a glare. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. And besides, we both know the Ministry isn’t good for anything!”

Molly turned away so George didn’t see the way she twisted her face up in agreement. The Ministry _was_ rather useless. At everything other than making people’s lives difficult.

“I’m still angry,” she warned at last. “And you and your brothers will be punished for sneaking out like that. Do you understand you nearly gave me a heart attack?” She paused, squeezing the bridge of her nose. Not the point.

“But let’s put it aside for now,” she suggested. “I want you and Fred to make sure everyone knows not to ask Harry too much about his home life. I don’t want him feeling uncomfortable, and I don’t want anyone outside this family to know how Harry got here. We don’t need the Ministry hounding us.”

George nodded, then, when his mother signaled that he should leave he did, and a moment later Molly heard him pounding up the stairs after Fred. 

Switching off her muffalato charm, Molly turned to the pantry and peered inside, pursing her lips. The arrival of a new person had complicated things. She hadn’t been expecting to host at all that summer, hadn’t planned for it. They didn’t have the food, and quite frankly, they didn’t have the money to buy the food.

Oh well. They would manage. They always would. Molly thought back to the few moments she had seen Harry Potter; he had seemed awfully skinny. Too skinny in her opinion. Molly intended to make sure he ate. If he was anything like Ron, he could eat several meals a day and still be hungry. 

By the time Ron and Harry had come back inside Molly had put together something of a plan to get the Burrow through the next week. She knew she would have to talk with Arthur when he got home so they could figure out the rest of the summer. Putting together six plates of French toast, she used magic to float them out to the table as slowly her children stumbled down the stairs to eat.

“Come on, come on,” Molly called. She gave Percy a gentle push towards the table, carefully lowered the food down, and glanced around. She was just about to ask where Ginny was when her youngest came bounding down the stairs, rubbing her arms.

“Mum, have you seen my jumper?” she asked.

Molly gave her best guess as to where it was, but she wasn’t sure if Ginny had heard her. Her green eyes had fallen on Harry, and the girl let out a small gasp of fright.

Molly winced. Clearly the twins hadn’t had a chance to speak with their sister. Aiming a quick glare at the two of them that had Fred and George gulping nervously, she cleared her throat to draw Ginny’s attention away from a once more nervous Harry.

“This is Ron’s friend Harry,” she introduced. “Harry, this is Ginny.”

Harry waved, unable to say anything through the food he was positively shoveling in. 

Ginny’s eyes widened, and Molly saw her mouth move silently, forming the words _Harry Potter_. She glanced back and forth between Harry and Molly, then, overwhelmed, gave a squeak and ran upstairs.

Molly sighed. “Don’t mind her,” she assured Harry. “She’s a bit shy around new people.”

“She’ll warm up soon enough,” added Ron. 

Fred muttered something unintelligibly, and Molly just made out something about crushes. Luckily Harry didn’t seem to have heard anything, and Molly sent a glare to Fred that had him shutting up.

Just then Arthur walked in. Molly always found it amusing how incredibly unobservant he could be. He shrugged off his coat, tossed it on a chair, and sat at the table.

“Sorry I’m just getting in,” he said, leaning up to kiss Molly’s cheek. “Had to work late- who’s this?”

Molly pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “Harry, Ron’s friend.”

She saw that her husband guessed at Harry’s last name immediately; there was a flare of shock in his eyes. A moment later it was gone, replaced by a wide grin as Arthur scooted closer to Harry. 

“Hello Harry, good to meet you. I’m Arthur.” Arthur grabbed Harry’s hand in a shake.

“Hello Sir.”

Arthur’s grin deepened at Harry’s respect, something Molly knew he got none of at his job. 

“Harry,” Arthur started. 

Molly’s gaze switched to Arthur nervously as Harry froze in his seat. 

“I was wondering,” continued Arthur, oblivious to the mood change in the room. “Can you tell me; being from the muggle world, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?”

For a moment Harry could only blink rapidly. During this time Molly had to disappear into the kitchen so that no one saw her practically double over with laughter. She only emerged when, a minute later, there was a sharp thwack against the window.

“Oh, that’s just the owl,” Molly stated. “Not to worry.” She moved to the window and opened it so the dumb bird could get inside. 

Then she moved to the kitchen and got busy cleaning dishes. Anything to keep busy. There were a few dirty dishes on the table too, and Molly went to grab them. 

Arthur glanced over to her, caught in a rare moment of observance. From the corner of her eye Molly saw his eyebrows go up at the way she was constantly moving about, doing things by hand that she normally would do with magic. Then his eyes went down to his plate, and when they went back to Molly there was a flash of guilt in them.

Molly didn’t acknowledge him, continuing on with tidying up the house. When Ginny emerged for a second time a minute later Molly thrust a plate of food at her and ran back to the kitchen, praying that no one heard her stomach growl. When everyone finished eating several minutes later she was standing at the counter, furiously scrubbing away every last speck of dirt.

“Here, let me get the plates,” she heard Arthur suggested. Molly heard the sounds of clunking dishes, and a moment later Arthur had joined her, all seven plates stacked on top of each other. The plate on top, do doubt Arthur’s, was only half eaten.

He handed it to her and brought the remainder of the plates to the sink. “You eat,” Arthur told Molly. “I’ll handle these.”

For a moment Molly could only stare at him, and then she planted a kiss on his cheek, fighting back the tears brimming in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

They could do it. One more person wouldn’t make that big a difference. They could manage together.


End file.
